Declan
By ten the next morning,Declan was driving down the highway, cutting through the mountainside and drinking greedily from a big travel mug of coffee. He had expected to use the drive to get some thinking done, but that was before Seb had asked to come along.
Something about those damn eyes, he just couldn’t say no.
And Seb? He’d asked with a damn puppy dog in his arms.
“Funny,” Declan said, glancing in the rearview mirror. “I’ve had plenty of cops following me before, just never one I was glad to see there.”
Seb laughed, his eyes out the window. “If those people are after my research instead of me, the cop would probably be better off at home.”
“I’m just happy your dad is the kind of guy who can pull strings to get this kind of protection.” Declan pressed down on the accelerator as they climbed a hill, the engine revving. He was still beating himself up, convinced that he would have caught the intruders earlier had he not been distracted by fooling around with Seb. At least until he could get his head on straight again, the extra security was a relief.
They chatted as they drove, Declan’s fingers tight on the steering wheel. Every time a car passed going the other direction, his eyes would dart, adding a description of the vehicle and its driver to a tally he was keeping. Having not gotten much sleep the night before, there was a dull ache behind his eyes, but he didn’t give a damn about that.
He just wanted to know what the hell was going on.
As they pulled off the highway and into Syracuse, Declan grunted. It dawned on him that his contact from Big Paolo probably wouldn’t want Declan driving a cop straight to his front door. Instead, he started to circle the blocks downtown until he found a quiet street near some cafes.
“This it?” Seb asked.
Declan glanced out the window and saw the cop car parking down the block. “We’ll go for a little walk first,” he said.
With a nod to the police officer to let him know they’d be back, Declan took Seb across town. It felt funny to be out in public with him, even funnier with the way Seb kept glancing up, batting his eyes like some kid with a crush. Cutting through a small park, certain there was no one tracking them, Declan even let himself lay his hand on Seb’s back, guiding him forward.
Seb softened at the touch. Declan went to light himself a smoke but remembered what Seb had admitted, about how the cigarettes bothered him, and he fought down the urge. They didn’t say much after that, which was good and fine for Declan. He was just happy to walk together.
“Here we go,” Declan said, approaching the address.
“Are you sure?” Seb asked. “This is a security company?
Declan stared at the building. “I guess so,” he said. An old barbershop was on the first floor, and what looked like apartments occupied the two stories above it. The building was a bit rundown, the brick siding worn with time and the awning ragged. It wasn’t what Declan expected, either, although he wasn’t exactly surprised. The security company this man ran was supposedly legitimate, but anyone with ties to Big Paolo was crooked, through and through.
Inside, there was only one man getting his hair cut, but a couple of guys sat behind the counter with a small television on between them. No one looked up when Declan and Seb stepped through the door, and when Seb tensed, Declan rested his hand lightly on his back again, the impulse hitting him so quickly he didn’t even think about it.
“Something I can help you with?” one of the men at the counter asked, his voice slow and deep.
“I have an appointment,” Declan answered, working his jaw in a circle to show he wasn’t intimidated. “A man named Reed.”
The man at the counter nodded. “Through the back.”
Declan walked Seb over, doubly relieved that he hadn’t brought the damn cop with him. The door in the back of the barbershop led to a staircase, which he started straight up, stomping his heavy boots on the way.
“Should I follow?” Seb asked, hesitant.
“Come on,” Declan answered. “Maybe they’ll have some good magazines in the waiting room.”
Seb laughed, and Declan smiled that the joke had landed. He knew places like that could look so damn intimidating, but he also knew that nowhere particularly dangerous would have a sign advertising half-off cuts for kids on Tuesdays.
Upstairs, the heavy door opened straight into an office, the kind of place you would go to get your taxes done. A receptionist was sitting behind an old squat desk, reading a novel over a stack of papers, and when she looked up, she snapped the gum in her mouth. “Good morning,” she greeted them dryly.
“Name’s Declan. I called this morning—”
“Of course,” she interrupted. “You know, not that many people call Mr. Reed demanding an appointment.”
Declan grimaced. “I had good reason.”
“Don’t we all, don’t we all,” the receptionist said. She coughed roughly, then pushed a buzzer on her desk. “The bodyguard is here,” she announced into the static, then released the button as her eyes landed on Seb. “Didn’t expect you to bring a friend.”
